The Pegasus, a Stronghold Class prisoner transport vessel, departed from the Titus Penal Installation four days ago after dropping it's full cargo of 52 prisoners. That was supposed to be the end of their job, however there were two complications. The first was the two death row prisoners that need transport back to earth. The second was that the warden couldn't spare any guards for their trip back; it would be up to the eager ship's commander to oversee the deadly passengers' care. The voyage so far had been relatively uneventful.
Lucille Taves reclined in her seat that overlooked the main controls for the vessel, just like she had for the last nine years, as she sipped room temperature coffee from a plastic mug. The black, speckled with pinpricks of light, filled the view screen in front of her. A smirked crept across her face as she remembered an old conversation she had with the first Commander of the ship about what temperature was optimal for the substance. She didn't need to eat or drink, but found it made the crew more comfortable with her and gave common ground as people always complained about 'chow'. She looked across the readouts at her station. Nothing had changed since night shift began 12 hours ago.
Lucille's thoughts returned back to their trip as she checked her watch.
"07:30, morning already." Lucille announced to the empty bridge. "Peg would you please wake everyone?"
The ship's AI, designated Prisoner Exchange Guardship Model 13, had microphones at all crewed posts for voice commands.
The terminal screen at Lucille's station began to fill with text.
"Begin -Reveille Protocol- for crew compartments -Captian's Quarters- , -Cabin 1 Top Deck-
The ship's intercom in Katherine DuPre's and Quince McGovern's Quarters came to life with a synthesized feminine voice.
"The time is zero-seven-thirty, rise and shine. The time is zero-seven-thirty, rise and shine. The time is zero-seven-thirty, rise and shine...."
The message repeats until the cabin's occupants acknowledge it.
Cell 22 Block A, Pegasus
Kyle Jenkins had been up for a few hours. He had spent most of that time exercising and had began to sweat through his jump suit. He had been doing push ups for the last ten minutes though he had no way of telling what time it was in the barren cell. A bed was recessed into the wall on each side with a toilet and sink at the back wall. The cell door was a sheet of transparent aluminum, drilled with holes the size of peas at head height, and a small door in it that the guard put food through three times a day. That was the only way he had of telling time and how he knew he had been in this box for four days. He was glad to be heading back to earth.